Page 75 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Maybe she has more than one and isn’t who she says she is?
I shake my head. “Nah, that’s absurd.” Riles isn’t a criminal; I’m sure of it.
Then again, she was a little wacky during trivia.
Dismissing my paranoia, I decide I should store my passport in the safe as well, because it’s the smart thing to do, so I retrieve it from my bedside drawer, place it inside, and close the door, the mechanism locking and beeping a few times. I press some buttons, but it doesn’t open.
Shit! I don’t know the passcode.
Making a mental note to ask her what it is when I see her, I head out of the cabin, wandering around aimlessly for hours, Riles nowhere to be seen. A little bored, I grab a pizza, drink a few beers at the Lagoon Bar, listen to some live music, and eventually return to the room where she’s fast asleep—AirPods firmly secured in her ears.
Fist-pumping the air, I mouth a silent, “Fuck yeah!”
Sweet dreams, Riles.
The next morning,I wake without having a pillow repeatedly slammed against my head, which is marvelous.
I yawn, sit upright, and stretch, surprised to find Riles still sleeping. Relief and excitement sizzle through my well-rested body, so I sweep my covers aside and scoot my ass to the edge of my bed, stealthily creeping toward her like the Pink Panther.
Her chocolate hair is splayed in a mess, her mouth slightlyopen, her wrist resting against her forehead. I graze my hand over my beard, tempted to sit on the edge of her bed and stare at her. She’s undeniably beautiful and has a killer body, especially in a bathing suit. Damn, I almost drowned when she removed her white shirt thing by the pool. My stupid throat wouldn’t work, my limbs, lungs, and brain suddenly useless. I honestly felt like a teenage boy again.
Smiling, because I liked my teenage self and how I felt back then—young, dumb, and full of… hormones—I know what I’m feeling now isn’t as simple as that. I’m no longer a boy; I’m a man. A man who has been through his fair share of emotional turmoil. A man who delves below the surface in search of what he’s looking for. A man who isn’t simply pussy-whipped by a stunning body in a bathing suit.
I’m more than that. Iwantmore than that.
For so long, I haven’t been able to see the fun in things, my thoughts murky, cynical, and destructive. Never light, never comical. When I’m with Riles though, she has an uncanny way of reminding me that life isn’t all doom, gloom, and infidelity. She makes me laugh when I usually wouldn’t, play when I’d resort to fighting.
She makes me want to flirt… with her.
Murmuring something that sounds like “Momma,” Riles unconsciously seeks out her stuffed dog, hugging it to her chest. It’s adorable and reminds me of Poppy when I carry her to her room after her milk roofieing. The same sweetness and innocence—a calm purity that comes with peaceful slumber.
I exhale my relief and thank God the AirPods appear to have worked, although I can’t be entirely sure until she wakes and turns into the Hulk or not.
I should get her a coffee, just in case!
Ever the fan of a back-up plan, I quietly leave the cabin, make my way to the café, order us coffees, and return as quickly as possible to use hers as a peace offering.
Gently clicking the door shut, I pause at the daylightstreaming through the open curtains, her bed sheets ruffled… and empty.
Shit! Here goes nothing.
“Is that you, Riley?” she calls out from the bathroom.
Preparing for an attack, I hold up both paper cups as a deterrence, but her non-demonic, pleasant tone relaxes my posture, and I let out the breath I sucked in for dear life. “Yeah. I have coffee.”
The bathroom door flies open, nearly smacking me in the nose.
“You do?” she gasps, peeking her beanie-covered head out. “Oh my God! You’re a lifesaver.”
Clear goop dots her face, so I hand over her cup, then step back. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“On your face.”
She ducks back inside the bathroom to check her reflection, then pokes her head out again, laughing. “Moisturizer.”
“Looks like a jellyfish ejaculated on you.”
